Bloodstained
by Hailie Jade S
Summary: Yet another afterbooktwo interpretation. But it won't be normal, believe me! Mostly in Murtagh's POV. Chapter 6 up!
1. Prologue

**"Bloodstained"**

**by Hailie Jade S**

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Eragon or anything else except the plot, so far. Well, that was obvious. Otherwise this would be in an Eragon book, not on fanfictiondotnet._**

**Summary:** Yet another after-book-two interpretation. But it won't be normal, believe me! Mostly in Murtagh's POV. Remember: NOT NORMAL! Not even any OCs yet...

**Rating: **_T -_ because, well, that's just a good rating.

**A/Ns:** My second _Eragon_ fanfic. It's (hopefully) better than my other one. It's an ongoing story, yes. Sorry about the shortness - it's really more a prologue than the actual story.

* * *

Murtagh lay, curled in a ball, gasping for breath, though every time he sucked in air it caused him immense pain. Galbatorix hadn't laid a finger on him – oh, no, the king had _better_ ways to hurt someone deserving. 

Was Murtagh deserving? Was he wrong? Was Galbatorix right? Did Thorn's Rider do something so terribly wrong that he should be tormented like this? He reached stumblingly for his dragon's mind, needing to feel the red beast's reassuring mental touch, to make sure he was there. In a way, Galbatorix's cruelest punishment was that he would pull dragon and Rider apart.

_Thorn?_ Murtagh said, wanting, _needing_ his life's partner, the other half of him, his complement. _Thorn? Where are you? Are you back with me?_

_Murtagh!_ the dragon cried with more emotion than he usually preferred to show. _What did he do to you? Where are you? Are you okay? You're awake again!_

_Barely,_ Murtagh replied grimly, trying to uncurl his body. He drew his breath in sharply and stopped the motion. How ironic it was that he should be in the most luxurious room he'd ever been able to call his own, and here he was, in a tiny ball on the floor. His cheek was cold against the fancy wooden floor. If he'd only fallen a foot to the left, he'd be on the squishy, soft rug. No such luck. _Not with Galbatorix behind it._

_What are you talking about?_ Thorn asked, and Murtagh could feel him taking to the air, magnificent wings pounding the air. _You fell? What did he do to you?_

_Of course I fell,_ Murtagh said impatiently. _What did you expect?_

_What else did he do?_

_The usual, _Murtagh said. Convulsions racked his body at the memory. _Ooh… Thorn, _please_ come!_ How badly he needed to see his friend!

_I'm coming,_ the red dragon soothed. _I'm coming, Small One._

* * *

Later, Murtagh sat against Thorn's side, breathing in deeply. The lulling scent of roses hung in the air. Despite the fact that it wasn't very comfortable to be seated on the cold pavement in the Gardens, it was still the favorite hangout of Thorn and Murtagh. It was so peaceful, with the green everywhere, punctuated by bright bursts of color. It was always so quiet when they were in there, too, because none of the servants dared approach with the dragon and Rider in the Gardens. But among the semi-silence was a wonderful place for thinking. 

Murtagh was thinking at the moment about Galbatorix. The man confused him! One moment, he was leaning forward, dark eyes glittering, spilling the most beautiful plans for Alagäesia. Or telling Murtagh of _power_, of strength, of dark secrets so magnificent that they sent shivers crawling across the shared hides of Murtagh and Thorn. How grand he made it all sound! How alluring. The man was golden-tongued, the best speaker Murtagh had ever encountered.

But then he was ordering Murtagh to capture his _brother_. And when Murtagh failed, torturing him. Cutting him off from Thorn.

Was it worth it? Did Galbatorix really deserve Murtagh's fealty if he so enjoyed inflicting pain upon him?

Not that Murtagh had a choice. Not now that Galbatorix knew his _Name_. Not just his name, his _true name_. Galbatorix had reached long and deep into Murtagh's being, searching endlessly, but finally, he had found it. And because he knew it, there was nothing he couldn't make Murtagh do. And once he'd had Murtagh's, he'd been able to get Thorn's. And yet there had been just enough of a loophole to let Eragon go free.

What had so possessed Murtagh to let his brother run free? Saphira's Rider was doomed anyway. No one could escape Galbatorix for long. Sooner or later, Eragon was… Well, to be blunt, he had about as much hope of freedom as did a roasted rabbit in Thorn's talons. But did Eragon _deserve_ capture?

_Again with the '_deserve_', _Thorn pointed out dryly. _What if there _are_ no answers? There is no reason to look for them. We have no choice but to do what Galbatorix commands. Why fight it? It causes you pain. It causes _me_ pain!_

_You make it sound simple,_ Murtagh said heavily. _Eragon's my _brother_, Thorn._

_So?_

_So it's different. _You_ never knew your clutchmates. You don't know how it is._

_Is Saphira my clutchmate?_

_What?_ Murtagh said, taken aback by the question.

_Galbatorix speaks of capturing Eragon and Saphira so that she can mate with me, because she is the only remaining female dragon. Am I related to her?_

_She doesn't have to mate with you, necessarily,_ Murtagh pointed out. _Not if one of the other eggs hatches._

_They haven't hatched yet. What are the odds that they will?_ Thorn demanded. _Besides, who do you think Galbatorix will _want_ to sire more eggs? Whatever pathetic dragon hatches next, or _me

_You're so conceited._

_Answer my question._

_I don't know if Saphira's your sister,_ Murtagh confessed. _Galbatorix never said. But didn't dragons used to interbreed?_

_Yes,_ Thorn said calmly. _I merely wished to know._

_But if we don't catch Saphira soon, it won't matter, because Galbatorix won't let us live for you to mate with her._

_We'll catch her,_ Thorn growled. _She was a fine fighter, but nothing I can't handle next time. You work with the sharp stick and your magic, and I'll take her on. Don't worry. Together, we can do _anything.

* * *

**Please review! It'll get better.**


	2. More Musings and Helgrind

"**Bloodstained"**

**Chapter Two – More Musings and Helgrind**

**A/Ns: **Back again. This chapter has a bit more philisophical musings, which, I admit, get a little boring. You might want to skip ahead a bit.

Thanks to my reviewers so far! They're meh, Tallacus, and blizzardstar2000. And then siwenliu, who deserves an extra shoutout for helping me with my maps and spellings!

* * *

Eragon bent down, looking into Elva's eyes. They were strangely deep for a child so young. But then, she was no child.

"Do it, _Argetlam_," she hissed, curling the honorific title into a mocking slur. "There is nothing worse you can do to me."

Eragon felt his stomach clench. _Saphira?_

She lowered her great blue nose to touch his back gently. _I am here, Little One,_ she assured him. _I am ready to share with you my power. Don't be afraid. Just heal her._

Nasuada and Arya were watching tensely. Arya was watching because she was interested, and because Eragon could never refuse her, and Nasuada, because she was his liege lord and she had a strange affection for Elva. Eragon wondered at that. He certainly felt no attraction at all to the poor, afflicted girl. Of course, every time he looked at her, he burned with shame.

_Let's do this._

He opened his mouth, closed his eyes, and began to speak. The words curled through the air, pulling power into them, twisting around. The magic poured through Eragon's veins, then swept out, channeling into Elva. Saphira lent him some energy, then more and more…

Finally, Eragon rocked back, exhausted despite his new elf-like state. He didn't want to open his eyes. Had it worked? Was the curse lifted from Elva, or had he added some new evil to the poor child?

"Elva?" Nasuada's voice asked.

"A-ah?"

Eragon opened his eyes, shocked by the childish coo. He looked at Elva to find the girl blank-eyed, sitting down, her thumb stuck in her mouth as she gazed up at him.

_She's acting her age,_ Saphira said wonderingly, lowering her head to touch Elva's forehead. _The mark I gave her is still there._

_Really?_ Indeed, the silver mark, like the one Eragon bore on his palm, still stood out starkly on Elva's smooth skin.

"You did it!" gasped Nasuada, sweeping forward to drop to her knees. She reached out slowly to touch Elva's hair. The little girl blinked up at Nasuada, then reached for her. The leader of the Varden scooped the child into her arms, stroking her back. "How darling."

_I suppose,_ Eragon thought, though truly he was proud of his accomplishment. Again his thoughts wandered back to the pebble he had once labored so much to lift. Now he was cursing and un-cursing children!

"Well done, Eragon-vodhr," Arya said softly.

"Thank you," Eragon said, still slightly awed that he had managed to do it.

"Eragon?"

Eragon swiveled around at the sound of his cousin's – that is, his brother's voice. "I'm over here, Roran!"

Roran approached, blinking at the sight of Nasuada cradling the yawning Elva. "Um…?"

"Don't ask," Eragon said wryly. "What is it that you want?"

"Well, you said to pack up so we could go find my Katrina," Roran said. "So I did."

"Really?" Eragon said absently, his mind on other things.

"Really. Can we go now?" Roran sounded as petulant as a child.

_That's what it is to be in love,_ Eragon said to himself. Arya…

_Stop mooning over her,_ Saphira commanded, _and help Roran. You promised._

_I also promised Oromis._

_Roran's friendship is far more fragile._

Eragon knew she was right. Eragon's promise to help rescue Katrina was the only reason that Roran was holding onto his sanity – and his warmth toward his cousin-brother.

"Well, I guess we'll go," Eragon said lamely, getting to his feet.

"Let's go," said Roran eagerly.

"I shall accompany you."

Eragon looked up, shocked. _Arya?_

_This is not wise,_ Saphira said, groaning.

_What do you mean by that?_ Eragon demanded.

_You do not need distractions,_ Saphira told him.

_Arya and I have patched everything up. I promised not to pine for her. She won't be a distraction!_

_She will._

"I – we – will be honored to have your company," Eragon said.

"Then let us go."

* * *

Galbatorix slammed his face up, inches away from Murtagh's. His breath curled against Murtagh's cheeks, strangely odorless. His bottomless black eyes bored into his servant's, shining with fury. He still hadn't gotten over the failed attempt to capture Eragon.

"Now, _Kzarel_," Galbatorix snarled, and Murtagh felt a shiver grip his body as his true name was spoken. "Let's see if we can get a _good_ oath out of you now. So my dragon doesn't… slip away."

_Saphira? _His_ dragon? _"Y-yes."

"Don't speak until I tell you to!"

This was one of the times when Murtagh felt utterly repulsed by his master. When Galbatorix was spitting anger at him, hurting him, _cutting him off from Thorn_.

"I have been informed about a certain Shadeslayer –" the king spat the name out contemptuously "– being seen near Melian. I doubt he's coming _here_, but, just in case, I think you should be out awaiting his arrival."

Murtagh swallowed hard.

"You want to ask something, don't you, _Kzarel_."

Murtagh nodded soundlessly.

"Then speak."

"Why… why…" Thorn's Rider gulped again. "Why don't…?"

"Why do I not go after him?" Galbatorix finished, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Well, I believe you have a little unfinished business with him."

Was Galbatorix being stubborn?

"You and Thorn need the training," Galbatorix continued. "So, shall we set up some more things for you to swear? Perhaps, oaths that get things _done_. _Properly._"

"Y-yes," stammered Murtagh, before remembering that he wasn't to talk.

Galbatorix let it slide. "Then let's get to it, shall we?"

* * *

It made Eragon nervous to fly so close to Galbatorix. True, they were going to be near Dras-Leona, not Uru'baen, but it was only about one day of flying a-dragonback to Galbatorix's home from there. Well, that was just where Helgrind was.

Roran sat in front of him, clutching tightly to Saphira's neck and moaning quietly. Arya was in the back, not touching Eragon at all, to his disappointment.

_See? I told you she would be a distraction._

_She's not distracting me! Besides, it's not like I need to concentrate right now._

_But I was right._

_Sure, rub it in._

_Besides, you should be on the lookout for enemies._

_Who'd attack a dragon? _Eragon snorted dismissively.

_Galbatorix. Murtagh. Thorn. Shruikan._

_Fine. I get your point,_ Eragon said grumpily.

Finally, it was getting dark, and Saphira landed in a secluded patch of forest. Roran scrambled down as soon as he could, murmuring prayers under his breath. Arya leapt down with a smooth grace, and Eragon swung down with the ease of practice.

No one spoke as they lit a fire and produced the food. Eragon leaned against Saphira as she curled aroud the fire, her eyes still wide open. She had to stay alert, so close to Galbatorix's castle.

Being so close to Galbatorix and Murtagh made Eragon think. As confident he had become, due to his training with the elves, he was now reduced to a trembling blob of jelly at the thought of Murtagh's awesome power. He'd held Saphira immobile so easily, and it had been so difficult to fight for release. And if _Murtagh_ was so powerful, what about _Galbatorix_? The man had killed all the Riders. One more would take no skin off his back, certainly.

No matter how he looked at it, Eragon was doomed.

The thought sent shivers up and down his spine. It was true. There was no competing with such magical prowess. He needed to get back to Oromis – and _fast_. Anything the old elf could teach Eragon would be vital if Galbatorix and his new lapdog, Murtagh, were to be even threatened, let alone defeated.

_Don't think like that,_ snapped Saphira. _The moment you lose your courage, you lose your chance of victory._

_I think that's already been lost,_ Eragon said dolefully.

_Stop thinking like that! _Saphira repeated forcefully. _We are already so much more than we were when I hatched for you. We can do it. We can defeat them!_

Eragon inhaled deeply, watching Roran roll up in his blanket and go to sleep, while Arya slipped off into the woods, not needing to sleep. _You're right. We'll just stay positive. Maybe we can do it. But Saphira! Murtagh was so strong!_

_Do not think any more tonight,_ Saphira said gently. _Close your eyes, my friend. Tomorrow, we must storm Helgrind. You need your rest._

* * *

Shruikan lay dozing, his immense black bulk stretched out across the roof of Galbatorix's castle. He looked innocent and unprotected, but in reality, he was surrounded by countless wards. But who in their right mind would attack Shruikan, Galbatorix's dragon, anyway?

Thorn watched the huge midnight-black creature sleep. Murtagh's red friend was miniscule in comparison. Shruikan looked like he could pick up Thorn and fly away with him in his talons. Would Thorn ever get that big? Nothing would dare stand up to him if he was so enormous.

Shruikan's bond with Galbatorix was puzzling, frightening, and a little repulsive to Thorn. The dragon hadn't naturally picked Galbatorix. They had been forced together by magical means.

Thorn didn't know what Shruikan must feel toward Galbatorix. Did the black dragon _love_ his Rider, the way Thorn loved Murtagh? Murtagh avoided actually thinking the word _love_, but Thorn knew it amounted to that anyway. They were of one mind, one spirit, if not one body. But Shruikan wasn't one in spirit with Galbatorix. Thus, the question: Did dragon and Rider share a bond of love?

But what did it matter, anyway. Thorn was always telling his Rider to stop with the philisophical pondering, and here he was, musing about his masters. _Like I told Murtagh: Don't think. Just do what they say, or you will hurt._

Thorn wasn't quite sure _what_ to think about Galbatorix or Shruikan. He respected Shruikan's age and skills, and he knew Murtagh respected humanish things about the king. And yet all this moral debating was going on. Were they _good_ or _evil_?

Thorn didn't even really understand _good _and _evil_. Murtagh hedged whenever the subject arose. Thorn had attempted to probe his Rider's consciousness, but Murtagh was quite skillful at blocking his mind, even from his own dragon. Thorn suspected that he was cut off from the good/evil question because Murtagh himself was doubting his opinions on it. What if Thorn and Murtagh were actually on the _evil_ side?

_Do the 'bad' people actually think they're bad? The Varden think that they are in the right, but so does Galbatorix. Who is?_

Angry that he had questions and no answers, Thorn threw himself into the air. _Thinking_ was for humans. _Doing_ was for dragons.

* * *

Eragon took a deep breath, then began to set up the wards. Saphira gave him enough energy to put one around her own huge bulk. Then, Eragon covered Roran. Arya declined his offer, saying she would take her own precautions.

Helgrind loomed threateningly in front of them, tall dark spires reaching up like evil fingers, grasping at the sky in attempts to pull away its fresh clearness. The Ra'zac were in there.

_Revenge…_ Not only could he rescue Katrina for Roran, but they could avenge Garrow…

Katrina was all Roran cared about, judging by his expression. But wouldn't it be a good thing to eradicate the Ra'zac, once and for all?

_But I thought that about the Urgals, too,_ Eragon though with a frown. _What if the Ra'zac are actually okay, too?_

_Don't think that now,_ Saphira said wearily. _They work for Galbatorix. Kill them if you can. But do not put yourself in danger to hurt them if you don't need to. I don't want you dead!_

_I don't want me dead either,_ Eragon replied wryly.

"Well, are we ready?" Eragon said, having finished erecting the wards around himself, Roran, and Saphira. Roran nodded curtly, his face set and pale, while Arya said softly, "Yes."

"Then let's go."

* * *

**There you have it. Tell me if it's good or bad… And how's the chapter length? Should it be longer? Shorter?**


	3. Into Helgrind and Shruikan Speaks

"**Bloodstained"**

**by Hailie Jade S**

**Chapter Three – Into Helgrind and Shruikan Speaks**

**A/Ns: **Here's chapter three, everyone! Many thanks to my so-far reviewers, especially the new ones. I owe ya, T.B.C.J., Zenna, Tallacus, nejsaku12345, blizzardstar2000, siwenliu, and meh!

Shorter chapter this time, but a necessary kind of filler... Bit of a cliffhanger ending for both Eragon and Murtagh, but hey, now you'll just have to wait and read chapter four!

* * *

"Are you ready?" Galbatorix purred to Murtagh and Thorn. Behind him, Shruikan stood, staring unblinkingly down at them, as always. They had never heard him speak. Presumably, he and Galbatorix communicated, but no one else ever heard.

Murtagh nodded, swallowing hard, while Thorn said meekly, _Yes, Master_.

"Good," the king of Alagaësia said smoothly. "Remember," he said, "_you will bring them here_. You will _not_ come back empty-handed again."

"We won't," Murtagh assured him, putting every effort into controlling his voice and not squeak out the words.

"Then go prepare leave," Galbatorix said. "And remember, should you fail me again… do not plan on a happy return."

* * *

Eragon slid off of Saphira, then helped down her other passengers. His heart was pounding, but he kept his face carefully blank. He'd taken on Murtagh and… well, he hadn't _lost_, really. (Maybe). The Ra'zaac shouldn't prove much of a threat now, in his heightened state. Not only was he more advanced in his magic skills, but he knew about them now, knew their weaknesses. He quickly reviewed them in his mind as he turned to look into the gloom of Helgrind.

_I'll be right out here,_ Saphira said firmly to Eragon. _If you get in trouble, I'll knock all of Helgrind down to get to you._

_Thanks, _Eragon said, comforted despite the outrageousness of her suggestion.

_Good luck_.

"Keep your mind open," Arya reminded Eragon in a whisper. "No one must sneak up on us."

The three of them stepped forward into the dark. Eragon murmured a few choice words in the Ancient Language, and a small ball of light appeared before them, bobbing ahead of the trio to light their way down the passage.

Eragon's every sense was tingling, and he kept alert for any signs of a conscious mind in Helgrind. He felt several bats and other creatures, like spiders, but tuned them out.

"Where's Katrina?" Roran asked, instinctively lowering his voice.

"I don't know yet," Eragon whispered back. The little ball of light flickered and bobbed ahead of them, illuminating smooth dark walls that were glistening. The Ra'zac didn't like water, Eragon remembered, so why were the walls looking wet?

He decided he didn't want to know.

Finally, he felt a spark of thought. He immediately grabbed at it. The mind shrank away from him, afraid, putting up a weak barrier.

_Don't worry,_ Eragon assured the person, gently shoving aside their defenses. _I'm here to help you._

The consciousness disappeared. Eragon sighed impatiently. The person had fainted. "There's someone this way," he told Roran and Arya. "I don't know if it's Katrina or not. They passed out, whoever they are."

Roran lurched forward. He slid and finally collapsed into a heap, moaning. Eragon hurrried to his cousin-brother's side. He muttered the healing words, then helped the shaky Roran to his feet.

"I guess this is a reminder that we have to watch our step around the Ra'zac," Eragon said ruefully as Roran brushed himself off, blushing furiously.

The elf, semi-elf, and human set off again, this time careful to watch their step as they made their way to the consciousness that Eragon had sensed.

There were more pinpricks of thought now, most of them weary, frightened, hungry, sad, or otherwise depressed. But then, who could be happy in the belly of the Ra'zacs' home?

When they came to a fork in the passageway, Eragon confidently said, "This way." They set off again.

Eragon poured all his concentration into the pinpoints of the minds of the prisoners of the Ra'zac. They pulled at his consciousness, tugging him toward them. He felt his steps quicken to a jog, ignoring Arya and Roran's puzzlement.

Finally, they rounded a corner to find a row of cells, each with a dark shape inside. It wasn't well-lit enough to make anything else out, though, and Eragon put enough energy into his ball of light to illuminate the room more.

"Where's Katrina?" Roran hissed. Then, he threw caution to the wind, and lurched forward, rasping, "_Katrina_?"

Suddenly, a loud _thud_ echoed behind the three rescuers. They spun around to see two enormous black beasts, looming over them, staring at them with eyeless faces.

The Lethrblaka, parents of the Ra'zac!

Eragon's mind raced. He recalled Oromis's words with frightening clarity:

"_On the first full moon of their twentity year, they shed their exoskeletons, spread their wings, and emerge as adults ready to hunt all creatures…"_

The Lethrblaka! The Ra'zac were pained by bright light and feared deep water, but did the Lethrblaka? Not to mention that they must be infinitely stronger than their children, the Ra'zac.

Eragon was faced with man-eating monsters that he had no idea how to kill.

* * *

Thorn growled angrily. He dug his talons into the soft material coating the roof of Galbatorix's home. Shruikan was again stretched out a little bit away, but Thorn's attention wasn't on the massive black dragon.

_Murtagh!_ he yelled, shoving at the mental barrier blocking his Rider's mind from his. _Let me in!_

Morzan's son didn't obey; instead, he strengthened his defenses. What was he thinking that he couldn't share with his own dragon? They would be leaving to try to intercept Eragon and Saphira soon. This was a time for them to be together, to share any fear or excitement they might have, not to cut each other off. Murtagh hated it so much when Galbatorix detatched himself and Thorn – why, then, was he doing it voluntarily?

Thorn roared in frustration, flinging his blood-colored wings wide and opening his jaws as far as they would go. It wasn't _right_ that Murtagh should want to block him out!

_Why do you yell, young Thorn?_

Thorn spun around, whipping his head about so quickly that his neck hurt. _Who said that? … Shruikan?_

Indeed, the ancient dragon had lifted his ebony black head, his bottomless eyes open and staring at Thorn unblinkingly. The voice that had penetrated Thorn's mind was old, so old and tired, wary from past pain, and utterly hopeless. The voice made Thorn ache inside. In comparison to Thorn's own youth, vitality, and volatile emotions, Shruikan felt like an old lady.

_I… I…_ Thorn trailed off. _Murtagh won't let me in,_ he finally said.

Shruikan regarded him with cold eyes.

_He… Don't you understand me?_

Shruikan seemed unmoved by the information he'd gotten. Thorn couldn't understand. To be blocked out by your Rider was an appalling, emptying feeling, like you were trying to fly with only one wing. Yet Shruikan acted as though Thorn had merely told him that the sun had risen in the morning.

But then… Galbatorix wasn't really Shruikan's Rider. He was his master, who had twisted the dragon into his power by magical means. But surely Shruikan still realized how horrible…?

No. No, he didn't.

He didn't understand in the slightest, and that made Thorn scared. It made him very, very scared.

* * *

Finally, Murtagh's barriers dropped. Thorn burst into his Rider's mind, relieved. He considered searching for whatever had just happening in Murtagh's memories, but decided against it.

_Don't do that!_ he snapped, spreading his wings to lift off of the roof, spiraling down to where he knew his friend to be, in the Gardens. _I _hate_ it when you shut me out!_

_Sorry,_ Murtagh said. His mind was still on other things, but Thorn was just glad to have him back.

The red dragon fanned his wings, extending his mighty talons to land delicately before Murtagh. When he was settled, his Rider approached him, reaching up to stroke the soft nose of his partner.

Thorn nuzzled Murtagh. _Are you okay?_

_Better than I was_ was the reply.

_Oh! I forgot. Shruikan talked to me._

_Really?_ Murtagh's interest was sparked. _What did he say?_

_Well… I was a bit upset because you wouldn't let me in, and he asked me why I was yelling. Then I tried to explain, and he just _looked_ at me. He didn't understand at all! He doesn't love Galbatorix. He doesn't love his Rider. It's scary, Murtagh. How can he not? I would never not love you._

Murtagh sighed heavily, hugging his dragon's head awkwardly. _I dunno, Thorn._

_It's kind of scary,_ Thorn said, understating it. To him, a bonded dragon, the thought of being indifferent about your Rider's mind was horrific. A dragon indifferent to his Rider meant no love, no strong bond, no assurance of an equal partnership, no sure help when you were in trouble. Shruikan scared him, really he did.

_I feel so bad for him, _Murtagh said softly.

_What?_ It hadn't occurred to Thorn to pity the other dragon.

_I said I feel bad for him. He didn't _choose_ Galbatorix. There must have been someone else in Alagaësia, someone he was meant to hatch for. He must miss that person terribly – even if he never met them. Imagine if you couldn't hatch for _me

Thorn tried to ponder it, but had to shiver violently and push the thought away. It was repugnant. _You're my Rider. It is how it is and that is _not_ going to change!_

_No way,_ Murtagh agreed, squeezing tighter.

Just then, both of their minds were assaulted. They recoiled as one, throwing up frantic defenses, before realizing that it was Galbatorix.

_You leave now,_ the king told them coldly. _Go to where they were seen – you know where it is – and bring them back. Remember the consequences if you should fail._

_Yes, sire,_ dragon and Rider replied simultaneously. Murtagh's fist clenched around Zar'roc so tightly that Thorn could see his knuckles turn white.

It was time to go confront the enemy.

* * *

**Please review!**


	4. A Regretted Death

"**Bloodstained"**

**by Hailie Jade S**

**Chapter Four – A Regretted Death**

**A/Ns: **Here's chapter four! If you've read my profile page, you'll know this is the re-written version, seeing as I lost the first version that I wrote. (Growl) Which also explains why this chapter took so long to get out. Also, I don't think the Lethrblaka were described yet, but if they were, tell me, and I'll make the proper adjustments. I don't have a copy of either Eragon or Eldest with me right now, so please help me out if I messed up anywhere.

Anyway, here it is, and thanks to my so-far reviewers: T.B.C.J., Zenna, Tallacus, nejsaku12345, blizzardstar2000, siwenliu, meh, By Victoria, Zenna, and Miss Apple Pie! You all rock... A lot... I love you all... You're the reason why I update!

(_Advertisement break: Do you want to see _your_ name in the above space? Now, you can! And only for the very cheap price of _at least one review_! Doesn't that sound so wonderful? What a bargain, eh?_) Right. Done being insane.

Enjoy, and please review! (Sorry about the really bad chapter, too. I don't like this one.)

* * *

Murtagh and Thorn flew swiftly. The sunshine bounced off of the red dragon's scales, sending sparkling daggers of light shooting in all directions. They made no attempt to hide him, and even flew low and close to the ground. The idea, Galbatorix had told them, was to show the people the newest dragon of the land and inspire fear. Once, Thorn even let out a burst of ruby flame over a small town. 

They had no way of knowing where Eragon and Saphira were. That they had been spotted near Melian was no telling information. Their best bet was to fly that way and hope the other dragon and Rider returned the way they had come. Of course, there was always the likely possibility that they were going to be wherever they were going for a long time. Well, Murtagh would just figure it out as he went along. If only it was possible to scry Eragon. But whenever anyone tried – Galbatorix himself had attempted it – they were repelled.

But they would find him. Oh, yes. There was no escaping Galbatorix.

* * *

The Lethrblaka loomed before the frozen trio of Eragon, Roran, and Arya. Mustering up his courage, Eragon reached for all the spells he could think of that might be able to do damage to such powerful creatures. 

They were hideous. They resembled short, squat horses that were black and leathery. They had vast wings that sprouted out of their backs, but they were nowhere as beautiful as Saphira's. Their eyes were empty, bottomless holes that gaped in their faces. The disconcerting stare was enough to immobilize Roran and Eragon.

But Arya was an elf, and in no way prey to such hypnotism. She quickly shouted a few words in the Ancient Language, but they sounded like they were coming through a thick fog. Eragon found that the spells he had been preparing were slipping away, running out of his mind like water through a fishnet. He grasped weakly at them, but his thoughts were cloudy, and he failed.

_Saphira,_ he called, but his mental cry sounded soft even to himself. He felt her mind pushing against his, but then, even that stopped.

He felt himself falling to the ground and everything was spinning, spinning…

Suddenly, there was an explosion of light and a loud _bang_! Startled back into consciousness, Eragon jerked upright, letting out a yell of surprise. Arya was standing with her hand out. She had apparently done something drastic to arouse Eragon and Roran.

But now the Lethrblaka were mad. The one on the left let loose a screeching sound that was too horrible for words. Eragon fell back, clapping his hands over his ears as the terrible noise assaulted his hearing, and Roran simply passed out.

The Lethrblaka lunged forward together, flaring their wings and emitting more piercing screams that rained down on Eragon like hammer blows, making him unable to move. Arya flung up her hands, trying to shout words in her defense, but Eragon could tell that she was losing.

He didn't see it when it actually happened, but he felt it. Felt it as though it was _him_ that the Lethrblaka was smashing with deadly hooves, tearing at with nasty fangs, body-slamming.

Before he knew it, Arya was dead.

_No. No! NOO!_ The word slammed through Eragon's mind, freezing his body as he stared blankly at Arya's prone form. She had fallen on her side, and her arm was at a funny angle.

Grief tore through Eragon like a wildfire, ripping him apart from the inside. Arya… Arya was dead! Dead!

The Lethrblaka that had killed her was in front of him. With a terrible anguish roaring through him, Eragon screamed one word. It was enough. The horrible beast keeled over, falling just to the side of Arya, as dead as she was.

The second Lethrblaka gave a spine-chilling bellow. It reared at Eragon, narrowly missing him with its sharp hooves. Eragon, tears pouring down his face and every fiber in his body screaming, grabbed Roran and dragged him down the passageway. Roran came to quickly and staggered after his cousin-brother until the two burst out into the sunlight.

Saphira was there to meet them, and she snatched them in her talons. She powered her wings and swooped off, over Helgrind. The Lethrblaka screeched until they were out of hearing range, but did not attempt to follow them.

Eragon dangled limply in Saphira's grasp. Her talons were digging into his chest and his legs were hanging. His right arm was pinned against his stomach, while his left one fell loose. Tears were still coming thick and fast, while his inner anguish was enough to make Saphira's flight turbulent as his emotions reached her.

Arya… Angela's prophecy had said that he would love someone of royalty, love them with enough love to… do something or another. He couldn't quite remember properly. But she'd never said that his love would return his affections, or that their relationship would ever work.

And now Arya was dead.

Dead.

When they were far enough from Helgrind, Saphira set Eragon and Roran down, then tumbled onto her side, gasping in huge lungfuls of air as Eragon sobbed passionately. It felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest.

Roran lay in the grass, also gulping, rubbing his ribs and moaning. "There was no better way to carry us?" he demanded in a raspy voice, wincing in pain.

Eragon ignored him, crawling to Saphira. He flung himself at her head, crying harder.

_Saphira!_ he wailed. _Saphira!_

_Eragon,_ she said in a broken voice. _Eragon…_

_Why? _Eragon asked in a mental whisper. _Why?_

_Wyrda,_ Saphira replied sadly. _It was her wyrda, her fate._

Eragon's hands balled into fists and he pounded on her neck, choking on the air he tried to breathe. _WHY?_

He couldn't hurt her, and Saphira had nothing but pity for her Rider. She craned her neck around to nuzzle him. Her deep blue eyes would have shed tears if it were possible. She grieved, but not so much as him. In a very small, private corner of her mind that she would keep him out of, Saphira was relieved. Arya had been… Well, partly a distraction for Eragon. Despite his devout assurances that he would not pine over the elf, Saphira knew he still had. He would always have kept going back to Islanzadí's daughter.

And, in a very, very quiet and very, very tiny part of her consciousness, Saphira admitted that she had been a tad bit jealous.

But only a little.

* * *

Eragon sobbed and screamed and cried and basically carried on for quite awhile, every so often demanding _why_ and vowing to kill… well, pretty much everyone that came into his mind. 

Roran paced impatiently, annoyed by his cousin-brother's actions. Why such a fuss about the elf? _Katrina…_ They hadn't rescued Katrina. Katrina was still in there with those horrible monsters! Roran couldn't stand it.

Finally, he spun on his heel. "Eragon!" he snapped.

Eragon cried some more, ignoring Roran.

Furious, Roran raced forward and, drawing back his hand as far as he could, slapped the Rider across the face. Stunned, Eragon fell back against his dragon, staring at Roran in shock, his tears forgotten. "What was that for?" he wailed piteously, rubbing his cheek, where there was already a red mark blossoming.

"For moaning and going on about it!" snapped Roran. "Katrina's still in there! We need to get her _out_, Eragon!"

"I shall never be able to do anything again as long as I live," Eragon said in a deadened tone, turning away, more tears trickling down his face.

"_I _need to get her out, Eragon!" Roran cried, grabbing for Eragon's arm.

The Rider icily pulled it away. "Then do it yourself," he hissed, then stalked away, around Saphira's head. She watched him go mournfully, and when Roran, seething, began to chase after him, she stopped him with her huge nose.

_Patience,_ she said heavily, speaking in his mind. _He needs time to deal with his grief._

"We need to help Katrina!" Roran said, massaging his knuckles to release some pent-up energy.

_He is in no shape to do that right now,_ Saphira pointed out quietly. _If he does not return in a better mood soon, then I will go and help you. But he is of no use as of the current moment._

Roran frowned. "What's so important about that silly little elf, anyway?"

Saphira blew out a gusty breath, sending Roran reeling. _Sorry… _She blinked apologetically. _Eragon had… feelings for her, but she did not return them. And yet he never gave up. He was quite persistent. _She blinked again. _Almost embarrassingly so._

Roran sat down, feeling a little guilty. If Katrina died… he wouldn't want someone to go slapping him for crying over her. "Maybe I shouldn't have…" he began, trailing off. He bit his lip.

_Don't worry,_ Saphira said. She extended a wing, offering him shelter and warmth as a wind started up. _All we can do now is wait._

* * *

Thorn flew on, grumbling to his Rider about how tired his wings were, how thirsty he was, and how it would be impossible to find Eragon and Saphira. They could be anywhere in Alagaësia, after all. What was the chance they had of finding them? Not very good, he thought. In fact, they had almost no hope at all… 

_Stop your moaning,_ Murtagh finally said, rolling his eyes. _We'll find them. Just shut up!_

Abruptly, Thorn stopped flying, hovering in midair. His head was upright, and he swiveled it around, smelling the air while his tail thrashed around like a whip.

_What?_ Murtagh asked, bewildered by such behavior.

_N-nothing, _Thorn said, sounding deeply shaken. _Never mind._

**

* * *

Thank you for reading! Sorry about Arya, to all you Arya-lovers. I just happen to hate her. Please review!**


	5. An Egg Stolen

"**Bloodstained"**

**by Hailie Jade S**

**Chapter Five – An Egg Stolen**

**A/Ns:** Hello, all… Sorry for the late update! But here you have it… I am MUCHO BUSY right now, so don't expect regular updates. However, I'll do my best. Sorry if Cialayza is kinda a Mary-sue. She's not gonna be a main character, so don't worry.

To all my reviewers…! Those of you who reviewed last chapter… Fredsonetrueluv, Masterarcher, nobody'slittleprincess, LoNnI, blizzardstar2000 (woot is my favorite word!), siwenliu, and Miss Apple Pie… You totally rock! Miss Apple Pie is the only one out of you who didn't actually hate Arya… Oh, well! I still love you all!

_(And, whenever I make a new character, I'm going to give a pronunciation guide. Cialayza is pronounced "See-uh-LAY-zuh".)_

* * *

Cialayza imperiously walked up to the great oak door, which was guarded by two soldiers who were standing stiffly to either side of it. They didn't react at all to her presence – they knew better. She didn't acknowledge them. They were beneath her. She tossed her head, letting her magically enhanced blonde hair flutter impressively as she halted in front of the door, her blue velvet caped settling against the backs of her legs.

She lifted her slim, pale hand (again, magically enhanced) and pressed it against the sleek, glistening door. She closed her eyes, bowing her head so that her forehead touched it, murmuring words in the Ancient Language under her breath.

Cialayza was one of Galbatorix's pet magicians, and it was her job to check in on the last, green egg that he had in his possession. Until they found a Rider for it, they needed to make sure the dragon inside was still alive and would be able to function when it hatched.

But little did Galbatorix know that Cialayza had something… different… in mind today.

The door swung open as though a gust of wind had hit it, and Cialayza swept inside, letting it slam shut and lock behind her. None but Galbatorix's special approved spellweavers would be able to get in.

There, nestled in a bunch of dark red fabric, lay the egg. Its fresh, bright green color stood out strikingly against the blood red silk, and Cialayza admired the effect. She'd picked the colors. She knew that there had once been two other similar bundles of cloth, each containing their own eggs – blue and red – but they were gone now, gone with the eggs.

She approached the egg, trailing her fingers down its length, enjoying the feeling. Sighing, she let all her magical covers fall away, exposing her real appearance. She always felt comfortable around the egg.

With her artificial beauty gone, there stood a woman with limp brown hair, streaked with gray, and an almost emaciated-looking figure. She had a lined face, despite the fact that she was only fifty-two. Because she was well-versed in magic, she would live to be over a hundred, she knew. And yet her body showed all the strain she'd been through.

There was nothing real about Cialayza any more. Not her looks, and not her mind. Nor her allegiance to Galbatorix. It had been simple to block him out of the tiniest corner of her mind – the corner where she secretly hated the King. She wasn't one of those pathetic Varden. Pah! No, she was an Yskitle. If Galbatorix had known, he would never have let her become one of his own. But he didn't know, and so there was a dissenter, right under his nose… handling his egg… his _dragon _egg…

Cialayza ran the usual checks automatically, sending mental probes into the egg, touching the green dragon within. Alive, he was, and as healthy as an unhatched dragon could be. He could wait in that egg for hundreds more years, should he want to, and he wasn't going to hatch until the exact right conditions came along. That is, until he found his Rider.

Cialayza took a deep breath. Her heart began to pound loudly in her ears, and all of her muscles tensed. Now. She had to do it now.

She'd thought it all out carefully, but… Galbatorix… the most powerful magician in Alagaësia…

Without giving herself more time to worry, Cialayza lunged forward and heaved the egg into her arms. She squeezed her eyes shut and shouted three words.

With a loud _bang_, she and the egg were gone.

* * *

Galbatorix felt the egg leave immediately. In an instant, he was on his feet, an inarticulate cry of rage ripping from his throat. In an excess of anger, he tore his dark black sword from its scabbard, flinging it out and beheading the nearest man to him, a guard. The decapitated soldier toppled over, his sightless eyes staring blankly up as his head rolled across the floor, leaving a trail of blood.

But still Galbatorix was not satisfied. He slammed his mind out, reaching to the egg room. No, it was not there! He searched the castle with his mind, cruelly tearing through every consciousness he came across, searching, searching…

No luck. He flung his mind out farther, trying to find the thing. But again, nothing. Whoever had it was shielding it from him.

His next move was to shout mentally, _CIALAYZA! _She was his best magic-worker, and they both knew it. She was his slippery advisor, right-hand woman, and she was in charge of routinely checking on the egg.

No answer.

He realized what was happening instantly, and was gripped with another fit of rage. He swung his sword around and plunged it deeply into the stomach of another guard, who'd been carefully trying to back away. _SHRUIKAN!_

The dragon woke, and groggily replied, _What?_

_THE EGG! THE EGG IS GONE!_

That got the black dragon's attention. His animalistic roar boomed across all of Uru'baen, broadcasting his Rider's wrath for all to hear.

* * *

Cialayza stumbled, tripping and falling to the ground, where she lay, exhausted. The egg rolled away a little. It had taken a massive amount of energy to transport herself and the egg – not to mention that they'd had to break through Galbatorix's magical barriers. But she'd helped him erect said barriers, and so she'd been able to get through – admittedly for a price.

Her world went dark.

* * *

Murtagh's mind was assaulted as suddenly as a falcon dropping on an innocent pigeon. The effect was much the same – guess who won. Thorn's wings crumpled and the two plummeted.

_IDIOT! FLY!_ roared a familiar voice in their skulls. Thorn wrenched his wings wide and hovered, panting at the effort. They both cringed as the voice again bellowed in their minds. _THE EGG! THE EGG HAS BEEN STOLEN!_

They gasped, and Murtagh's stomach knotted in apprehension. Galbatorix would be far from in a good mood. His egg, stolen…!

_By who, my Liege?_ he dared to ask.

_CIALAYZA! _screamed Alagaësia's king.

_What?_ Murtagh privately said to Thorn. _Cialayza? But she…_

He was interrupted by Galbatorix's shout of _GET THE EGG BACK! I DON'T CARE WHAT IT TAKES. BRING IT BACK TO ME!_

And he was gone.

_I think we should go find the egg,_ Thorn said dryly.

_I think that's an excellent suggestion._

* * *

Cialayza woke and groaned immediately. She felt totally sapped of all her strength, and she knew she could've slept for _much_ longer. Why had she woken up? She was exhausted.

She heaved her eyelids open and emitted a piercing shriek, instinctively curling herself into a fetal position, trembling. A great brown bear was looming over her, his small, dull brown eyes squinting at her as he sniffed. But the beast had no interest in her, and he dropped onto all fours to lumber away. Cialayza opened her eyes and relaxed a little, watching the thing warily.

The bear approached the egg. Cialayza's heart froze in her chest. _No!_ She couldn't let the bear damage or take the egg! She wearily pulled a few choice words in the Ancient Language into her mind, ready to use them if need be. But the bear, after nudging the egg experimentally, snorted dismissively and trotted back into the forest to go about his business. Cialayza breathed a sigh of relief.

She dragged herself to her feet and stumbled over to the egg, heaving it into her arms and groaning at the effort. She was a powerful magician, but Galbatorix was even stronger. She was going to be out of it for awhile.

How good a protector could she be for the egg if she was half-asleep? She looked at it, lying innocently in her arms, heavy as a rock. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. She couldn't tell. A forest somewhere. She moaned again.

She had no other choice. She wasn't even strong enough to erect her mental barriers. She'd have to send the egg on ahead of her and make her way to the Yskitle headquarters on her own. With her mental protections down, she could be found by Galbatorix. She couldn't let him have the egg back.

So she sat down, sucking in a deep breath, filled with trepidation. She reached her mind out, trying to feel for the Yskitle. Then, she spoke the words that would bring the egg to them.

In a flash of light, the egg disappeared, and Cialayza fell over, dead.

* * *

Murtagh and Galbatorix, who had both been feeling for Cialayza's mind, felt the impact as she died. Galbatorix, who still had his sword handy, slashed an angry gash in the grass at his feet, and Shruikan tilted back his head to howl depressingly. Murtagh's mind reached hesitantly for his king's.

_She can no longer be used to track the egg,_ Galbatorix conceded with a growl rising in his throat. _The worthless traitorous bit of scum._

Murtagh remained silent, knowing Galbatorix too well to try to talk when the king was in such an awful mood. Galbatorix could sense that Thorn was no longer flying.

_We have to find that egg. It's worthless to try to do so with our minds, you know that._ The ancient dragon-magic made that impossible. _So you must search for it. See if anyone met that traitor, or saw the egg. It is possible that she might have transported it again, to make it more difficult to locate. If that is the case, someone might have seen it, or even have it in their possession. _Find that egg._ If you come back without the Rider, his dragon, nor the egg, I shall be very displeased. And if the egg has already hatched when you find it…_ Galbatorix's lips peeled back in frustration at the idea. _Then bring the Rider here with any force necessary. We will _not_ have another Rider slip through our fingers. Understood?_

_Yes, my Lord,_ Murtagh said meekly.

* * *

Meanwhile, the green dragon egg slipped into existence ironically in a forest nestled in the Beor mountains…

* * *

**There you have it, folks! Cliffhangerish, I know… Oh, and please don't review asking what Yskitle could possibly be. That's later…! I was gonna explain more in this chapter, but I needed to keep the story moving. Cialayza's not that important. **

**Oh, also, how do you do "Uru'baen"? I can't find it in my stupid book…**

**Please review! Ciao, loves!**


	6. A Hatching

"**Bloodstained"**

**by Hailie Jade S**

**Chapter Six – A Hatching**

**A/Ns: **As usual, love all who reviewed! Blah blah… Time for Chapter Five's reviewers to get mentioned! WOOHOO! _Fredsonetruelove _and _Siwenuli_… The two of you are speshul! And, LoNnI… You reviewed chapter one… You get mentioned anyway!

Sorry for the non-updating gap and not-so-good chapter, but my life is suckily busy right now, so yeah… Please read and review!

* * *

It was almost humorous, Roran reflected, as he sat, his back against the rough bark of the tree, that he was waiting for an apparently emotionally unstable teenager who'd just lost the hundred-year-old love of his life to come out of the forest. At Roran's side was a large fire-breathing winged lizard who could talk in people's heads and was bonded to Eragon. They were waiting to go back into a dark mucky cave and face murderous monsters, all (suicidally) in the name of a single young woman. Meanwhile, there was an evil king who also had a giant lizard, and who was ruling the land, opposed only by a scruffy group of humans and short human-like creatures who loved rocks. And…

Roran decided he'd better stem this particular train of thought.

Saphira sat curled up, the tip of her blue tail flicking spasmodically, her deep eyes trained on the spot that Eragon had last been seen plunging into the forest. Her jaw was clamped tightly, her wings pressed firmly against her back, her legs bunched up beneath her as she sat, her talons dug into the soft ground.

Finally, she uncurled herself, lowering her great head to her Rider's cousin and brother. Her breathing fell hot and strangely sweet on his face. _Eragon has blocked me from his mind, else I would call him to us,_ she informed him.

Roran's hand curled involuntarily into a fist and he slammed the ground, lowering his gaze and biting his tongue, lest he say something hasty that he didn't mean. Saphira blew out a gusty sigh and dropped her shoulder. Roran looked at her, surprised and confused.

_Well, mount up,_ she said.

"Eh?" Roran replied impressively. His lower jaw was dangling.

_We go to Helgrind on our own, Roran Stronghammer,_ she said, a forced strength in her voice. _We can't expect Eragon to come out anytime soon._

Roran hesitated. "You won't fit in Helgrind," he pointed out.

Saphira opened her gaping maw, showing her deadly teeth. Her eyes sparkled with an inner fire. _I shall see what I can do.

* * *

_

The green egg lay, innocent and silent, in the green woody patch. Nearby, a small squirrel, his bushy tail sticking straight out, considered it, trembling nervously. A squirrel was always on guard. He dropped onto all fours, then made a mad dash forward. He stopped in front of the green thing, then sniffed it, his pink nose twitching. Deciding it was neither friend, foe, nor food, the squirrel lost interest and scurried away.

The egg remained silent.

* * *

Shruikan was lying morosely on the roof again. His pitch-black scales scraped annoyingly as he shifted his haunches. His golden eyes opened, and he bared his fangs in a huge yawn that expanded his jaws wide enough for him to swallow several grown men, before he settled again. Galbatorix's mind was closed firmly out of his own, as per usual. For the most part, the two of them avoided each others' minds, finding the alien thoughts distracting and unnecessary. Especially when Galbatorix was in such a rage. Shruikan really didn't need to listen.

Once, Shruikan knew, Galbatorix had been a proper Rider, his mind always in his dragon's. But Galbatorix never thought about that dragon any more, and Shruikan only knew what he knew about her from the king's dreams.

Such terrible dreams they were! Galbatorix tossed and turned frantically throughout them, usually ending up screaming himself awake. And yet Shruikan was loathe wake him. He couldn't help but be curious about his new Rider's old dragon.

Kisaffa had been her name, he'd gleaned, and a dainty yellow lady she'd been. The dreams were always the same – Galbatorix was waking up, sitting up in his bed to think _Kisaffa!_

And she would come out, out of the shadows, all shining golden beauty, her eyes sparkling with love for Galbatorix. He would fling himself out of bed, running to her to wrap his arms around her neck.

But before he could touch her, blood began to spurt from her, and she roared, writhing with pain as millions of invisible arrows pierced her tough scales. Then, her head severed itself from her body and rolled across the floor, sending Galbatorix into screaming convulsions. (Shruikan suspected that she hadn't _really_ been decapitated – but Galbatorix himself had since done it to enough men for it to plague his dreams).

Then, her scales would run together and drip onto the floor, and faceless monsters danced in the shadows.

And then she was black, blacker than midnight, and she would rear up, full-strength, opening her jaws in a terrible bellow. And she wasn't Kisaffa, she was Shruikan.

Shruikan wasn't quite sure how he should react to these dreams. He wasn't insulted or hurt – he'd always known that he wasn't the closest thing to Galbatorix's heart. They didn't share a bond of love, merely one of a partnership, which had since grown into a fierce loyalty.

Shruikan suddenly felt Galbatorix's mind thrust up against his own. He let it in, his eyes rolling as he twitched his tail. The sensation, even after all these years, wasn't the most comfortable.

_How goes the search?_ Galbatorix asked.

_I wouldn't know,_ Shruikan replied tonelessly.

_You need to keep tabs on them!_ roared Galbatorix. _What if they find the egg? _Shruikan thought this possibility extremely unlikely. _What if they need help?_

Shruikan waited silently under this tirade. He offered no apology.

_Well, go check in with them!

* * *

_

The green egg seemed to be growing restless. It rocked back and forth, finally rolling a little bit. It happened to be on just enough of an incline for it to go jostling down until it landed by a creek, next to a stinking carcass of a dead squirrel. The vulture that had been picking at the body squawked in fright and took off.

Suddenly, without any warning, a chip of eggshell flew off of the green egg.

* * *

Saphira and Roran were flying, back to Helgrind, and Saphira was severely uncomfortable. She wanted to roll her shoulders, shake off this unusual passenger. It just felt _wrong_ to be flying with someone on your back without your own Rider. She missed him, plain and simple.

Soon enough, however, Helgrind was back in view. Roran's legs clenched perceptibly on Saphira's neck, and she veered slightly to the right in hopes of easing his grip as she soared down in tightening spirals. She sucked in a deep breath, then contacted him mentally, missing the feel of Eragon's mind with every second that she couldn't touch it.

_Are you ready?_ she asked.

_I dunno,_ Roran replied dubiously. She wanted to smack him with her wing.

_Why not?_ she demanded.

_What about wards? Did the ones Eragon give us stop working? Why could those things still kill Arya?_

Saphira sighed. She'd heard the story of Arya's death. _The ones Eragon put up should still be useful right now,_ she informed her passenger. _And Arya had to let hers down before she… died… because she needed to help you two escape the spell of the Lethrblaka._

_Well, if we – I – whatever – run into those… Lethrblaka again, won't it be the same as…?_

_It will _not_ be the same, because you didn't have a dragon with you last time,_ Saphira said smugly. _I made the mistake of letting all of you go in there by yourselves once. I'm not going to make it again.

* * *

_

Finally, the green egg burst open, sending tiny slivers and large shards of shell flying everywhere. A dragon hatchling, as green as his egg and the forest around him, lay curled up in a ball, though his wings were unfurled, as he'd used them to break open his shell. He was covered in egg-slime, and he creeled his uncomfort to a deaf world.

He was a dainty creature, though it was clear that when grown, he would be a powerful beast. His little splinter-like claws would soon enough be dagger-like talons. His overlarge, bat-like wings would become vast and mighty.

He knew his name, too.

* * *

Across the land of Alagaësia, the egg's hatching was felt.

Eragon's head jerked up, his tear-streaked face stunned. _What was that?_ he wondered wildly, leaping to his feet, his hand flying to his sword hilt. He'd felt a sudden burst of energy, and for a second, a strange consciousness had briefly brushed his own.

Saphira, standing outside the gates of Helgrind, lifted her head and bugled loudly, her tail thrashing and her wings flaring as she trumpeted. She swung her head down, her eyes alight with fire, as she felt one of her own people come into the world.

Murtagh and Thorn froze, dropping like a stone toward the ground. The feeling was unmistakable, though they'd never experienced it before. _It had hatched._ Murtagh reached his mind out for Galbatorix's, but found it blocked with an iron wall that tasted of rage. Thorn began to roar, his full-throated peals echoing across the land.

Galbatorix let loose a terrible roar of pure fury, ripping his sword out of its sheath.

_SHRUIKAN!_ he bellowed, swinging the blade into something soft. He couldn't quite tell what it was. He was seeing red.

_His name is Tieu,_ Shruikan informed his Rider calmly, spreading his powerful black wings to let out a loud, animalistic cry.

* * *

**There you have it! I hope you enjoyed… "Tieu" is pronounced like the words "tie" and "you".**

**Please review!**


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